A Complex Romance
by Grade Zero
Summary: Harry and Hermione are under considerable stress in their fifth year at Hogwarts. This combined with four years worth of unusual experiences has drawn them together. How will this affect their lives? - M rated to avoid future restrictions.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN:** This started as a way of looking at the series if Harry and Hermione had become a couple, so thus far the story follows the basic line of events of book 5, with a few minor changes (plus the whole Harry/Hermione thing). Still unsure whether I should continue like this, or start to introduce completely new events, it has been left open enough that this is a possibility. Any thought on this matter would be appreciated. The title is just a placeholder for now, it may change.  
_

_Also, I'm new to this fanfic stuff, so any advice/criticism is appreciated._

_And away we go._

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Chapter 1:

Hermione sat in her favourite chair in the Gryffindor common room, her books spread out all over it and the floor. To an onlooker it would have seemed like she was hard at work, but her mind was elsewhere. The common room was quite empty, even Ron had decided to call it an early night when Hermione had appeared too pre-occupied to help him with his potions homework. She was now quite alone, staring into the fire, deeply immersed in her own thoughts. Perhaps it was her overly full timetable, she was still making use of the time-turner she had received in her third year in order to attend them all. Perhaps it was Umbridge and the disgraceful attitude the ministry had been spreading regarding Hogwarts and the return of Voldemort. Whatever the reason, she was really feeling the pressure as of late. Much of her energy of late had been spent organizing the DA, the only aspect of her life it seemed was actually going right; though even with success still had its pressures, the constant threat of being caught and the consequent expulsion was always in the back of her mind, no matter how sure she was they were doing the right thing by the students of Hogwarts. The only person she been able to open up even remotely to was Harry, she knew the pressure he was under was even worse, and this gave them a mutual understanding of each others experience. She also had a big job in trying to keep Harry under wraps at times. Perhaps the pressure was getting to him, but he seemed much more inclined to fly off the handle this year than the past, and she often seemed to be the only one that could get him to calm down.

Harry, in fact, was the thing plaguing her mind most severely at this moment. The growing closeness between them had started to create thoughts of a romantic nature within her mind. These feelings had been getting stronger by the day, and as a result, she was struggling more and more to keep up with her homework, spending more and more time thinking longingly of her desires. Harry had got himself thrown in detention with Umbridge again today, and Hermione had decided to wait up for him, and try to get homework done in the meantime. She knew he would be feeling angry at the injustice of yet more detentions for trying to spread the truth, and hoped she could comfort him. She also hoped she would get an opportunity amongst this to get her feelings out in the open, praying that deep down, those feelings would be mutual. She tried hard to not get her hopes up however, knowing that making sure he was alright was priority.

She sat staring at the book in her hands, reading over the words, though taking nothing in. She was so exhausted, yet felt as though she couldn't sleep, plus she was determined to wait up for Harry. The same thoughts and desires swam through head repeatedly, and slowly her eyes began to droop. Exhaustion eventually overcame her, and she fell asleep, still in the chair.

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	2. Chapter 2

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It was well past midnight as Harry slowly shuffled his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, in less a good mood. Peeves had just felt the full force of Harry's displeasure midway through yet another practical joke attempt, which resulted in a rare failure, followed by a barrage of colourful words from Harry's mouth. Up ahead he saw a pair of bright eyes look his way briefly, before disappearing around a corner ahead.

"I just had a detention!" He called after Mrs. Norris, but still proceeded to speed up; an encounter with Filch would surely only lead to more trouble.

His annoyance was as much at himself as anybody else. He had held his tongue in Umbridge's class for many weeks now, but today he had finally cracked. With the recent life-long Quidditch ban she had inflicted upon him, and her continued stance on the return of Voldemort, not even his usual tactic of thinking long and hard about he was running the DA right under her nose could keep him temper under wraps. Perhaps the fact that some of his classmates now believed him, and were even beginning to voice this, gave Umbridge all the more incentive to throw him in detention. None of them copped a week's detention though; the injustice of this ate away at him as he walked. Still though, the fact that they were willing to back him up raised his spirit ever so slightly. Through all these thoughts he barely noticed the sharp pain in the back of his hand, though this didn't bother him nearly as much as it used too. He had become almost accustomed to the pain. He could only hope that his clear indifference to Umbridge's gruesome punishment would cause her some annoyance.

He had expected to arrive in a deserted common room, but was surprised to see some long, bushy hair resting on the arm of the chair nearest the fire as he entered. A quick glance at the floor revealed an array of books and parchment, scattered in all directions. For a fleeting minute Harry thought Hermione might have waited up for him, but quickly brushed this thought aside. She had surely been up studying, as she often did late into the night. He almost felt pity as he looked down upon her, passed out on her chair. If anyone had a stress level that even came close to rivaling his, it was Hermione. Harry was the only person that knew quite how many classes she was taking, and also the only person that knew she was still using the time-turner she had received for her third year. Ron had long since given up asking about Hermione's timetable, and expressed interest only in the classes he was also in, and as result, was still completely in the dark about this.

For a moment, with these thoughts swimming through his head, Harry considered waking her up. He longed for some companionship, and Hermione was perhaps the only person who could understand what he was feeling, and as critical as she could be about his outburst, he knew she would be sympathetic. Thinking briefly of how much he would like being woken up, he decided to leave her be. With far too many thoughts running through his head to sleep, he opted to take a seat opposite Hermione and take a minute to clear his head. For some time he stared blankly into the fire, hoping Sirius' head might appear there, though he knew this would not happen; Umbridge had the fireplaces monitored far too well. To his left he heard Hermione stir. He ducked pointlessly and looked in her direction; she didn't wake. As he watched her sleep he couldn't help but notice how serene she looked. This opened the floodgates of his mind to a whole series of new thoughts, thoughts involving Hermione. Although brief, these thoughts had been recurring, and coming around at shorter intervals in past weeks. Though he still felt no desire to sleep, sitting there was no longer any help in clearing his head, the subject of his thoughts lying blissfully in front of him, his eyes constantly darting back to her, looking at her in ways he was not comfortable with, yet couldn't resist. He felt he should wake her up and send her to her dorm, but she appeared so peaceful, something that he rarely saw in her these days, that he couldn't bring himself to do it. As quietly as he could, he got up, and began to walk to his dorm. He had gone barely a step however, when he brushed a passing Crookshanks, who mewed rather loudly. Harry cringed and tried again to duck behind his chair as Hermione stirred and slowly lifted her head, looking around dreamily. As though suddenly remembering where she was, she shot up and stared wildly around.

"Harry?" she called into the darkness.

He decided hiding was pointless and crept out from behind the chair.

"Hermione…" he said clumsily, "sorry for waking you"

"Don't worry about" she said quickly, "Actually I was… waiting up for you"

This sent the thoughts Harry had been hoping to escape flying back through his head tenfold.

"Oh…" Harry mumbled uncomfortably, "that's nice of you… But don't worry about me, I'm fine" he lied, settling down into his chair.

She sat up properly and looked hard at him.

"Lines again?" she asked seriously.

"Yes" he muttered, trying hard not to catch her eye.

"Show me" she demanded, holding out her hand.

He hesitated, briefly shielding his injured hand. He looked up and caught her eye. The hard look she had sported only seconds earlier had been replaced with a soft expression as she leaned slightly forwards in her chair. Slowly, he thrust his hand towards her. She took hold of it and studied it for a moment. Harry couldn't help but notice how soft and comforting her hands were.

"It's really not that bad" he told her, "I think I'm getting used to the pain"

"You still have four more to go though" she said, an uneasy expression on her face, "you really must try to keep your temper in class from now on"

"I know, I will" he said, deliberately looking into the fire, "Just so much crap has been happening… It just got too much today"

"I know" she said soothingly, "she's awful"

"What were you doing out here anyway?" he asked, seizing an opportunity to change the subject.

"I couldn't sleep" she said, "I came out to try and study while I waited, but I couldn't concentrate either. There are just too many other things to think about. I guessed I dozed off though."

"You're not wrong" he agreed, "I don't know how you can keep up with so many classes on top of it all…"

"It's not easy" she said, as she too stared into the fire.

Harry chanced a look up at her. She had an aura of vulnerability about her, something he had only really noticed once before. All too familiar thoughts of Hermione started to flood his head once more, and he decided he should go up to bed.

"You'll be fine" he said soothingly, "we all will, sooner or later Umbridge and the ministry will see the truth"

He got up and began to head to the dorms. As he reached Hermione's chair she grabbed his wrist.

"Don't go" she whispered, turning to look into his eyes.

As he looked down into her face, he realized for the first time the strange feelings he had been having towards her may have been reciprocated. As he turned towards her she shifted slightly in her chair, allowing Harry to slide in beside her. She turned to rest her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her, wanting to stroke her hair with the other, but resisting. Might be a little much, she thought to himself.

"I don't know how you handle it" she said, lifting her head slightly to look into his eyes. "You're under more pressure than anyone… You handle it really well, all things considered"

Harry said nothing; it was most unlike Hermione to show such vulnerability. And exactly when she had been the one that needed comforting he did not now. He made up for the lack of words by bringing his other arm up around her, pulling her into a tender embrace. He felt her body relax as she closed her eyes. He too closed his eyes, incredibly relaxed. The fact that Hermione seemed to share the feelings he had been having all too often recently knocked one issue of his list. And as he sat there with his arms around her, the rest of his problems seemed so meaningless, if only for those moments. It was bliss.

He felt her move slightly and glanced down to find her looking up at him.

"We should get to bed" she said quietly, starting to rise. It was only then that Harry realized how long they had been sitting there; it had seemed so brief. She had risen to a kneeling position, her arms on the opposite arm of the chair. She looked into his eyes with an expression Harry had never seen on her before. Slowly, she closed her eyes and leaned forwards. He felt her lips press against his against she softly kissed him. All too quickly it was over; she slowly climbed off the couch and headed off to her dorm, briefly touching his hand on the way past. Harry took a moment to reflect on what just happened; amazed that something so wonderful could happen when almost everything in life seemed to be against him. Smiling to himself, he got up and headed off to the dorm.

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	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Aplologies for the fluctuating chapter sizes, they are a lot more uniform from 4 on._

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Hermione almost sprinted up the stairs to the dorm, a huge burden off her shoulders and adrenalin coursing through her. She leaned against the door as she closed it, closing her eyes and smiling, replaying what had just happened through her mind. She made her way over to her bed, thinking ahead to how the situation should be handled. It was have to be kept secret, at least for a while, she decided. As Ron tended to overreact greatly in relation to the romantic lives of both her and his sister, even he could not know for some time.

She thought about what the rest of the week would be like. Although she knew Harry would be even angrier with Umbridge each night, and his hand increasingly sore, she couldn't suppress a smile at the thought of the time the pair of them would get to spend alone. She had visions of the pair of them sitting arm in arm; finally get a chance to completely open herself up to someone, until the sun began to rise. These thoughts fresh in her mind, she fell into the most pleasant sleep she had experienced in quite some time.

Harry quietly entered him dorm, and fell back onto his bed, his head spinning in complete awe of what had just happened. He looked over at Ron, wondering how he would take it if he told him. Probably badly, he thought. He had a tendency to do that. Although they had never discussed it, Harry knew that Ron fancied Hermione a bit, and had to suppress a small surge of guilt. It couldn't be helped, he thought to himself. Neither he nor Hermione could help the way they felt, and eventually he knew Ron would understand.

He thought ahead to the rest of the week he was facing. Suddenly the detentions with Umbridge seemed far less daunting, with the knowledge that Hermione would be waiting for him when he got back, with the affection and sympathy he so badly needed at this time. He drifted slowly off to sleep, for once hoping not to see any of Lord Voldemorts visions. He had a feeling his dreams tonight would be much more pleasant.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Harry couldn't help but be amazed at how easy his detention the following night was. The discrete farewell he had received from Hermione on his way out of the common room had caused his spirits to soar and the look on Umbridge's face when he turn up to her office grinning broadly only added to his elation. He occasionally flashed a grin in her direction between lines, her expression becoming increasingly sour with each one. Even the pain in his hand, which seemed to have taken a considerable drop in potency since the previous night, could do little to dampen his spirit. Umbridge seemed determined to break this spirit, keeping him there much later than she had ever done before, though tonight at least; this caused him little other than amusement.

By the time he left Umbridge was in a right foul mood, all shades of her usual forced sweetness had vanished. Purely to add insult to injury, Harry gave her a cheerful waved as he closed the door behind him. Laughing quietly to himself, he bounded off towards Gryffindor Tower, keen to share the experience with Hermione, who would also hopefully help with his hand, which was now bleeding quite profusely. Even Peeves and Mrs. Norris seemed to be on his side tonight, there was no sign of either of them the entire trip. The Fat Lady was both angry at the lateness of the hour she was being woken at, and alarmed at the sight of his bloody hand, he apologized as best he could and climbed through the hole.

Hermione was sitting in her usual chair, quietly knitting more elf clothes. He was not surprised to see she looked quite exhausted, but she sprung to life upon noticing his entrance.

"Where have you _been_?" she asked, "This is much later than your other detentions"

"Apparently I wasn't suffering enough, so she kept me even longer" he grinned, "I thought you might have given up and gone to bed".

"It certainly looks like you suffered enough" she said, eyeing his bloody hand, "and of course not, we've barely had a chance to speak all day".

She shifted aside some of her books, allowing Harry to slide into the chair next to her, before pulling up a bowl of a yellow substance.

"Here" she said, "We can't have you bleeding all over everything".

He gratefully dipped his hand into the bowl, the soothing feeling was wonderful.

"What have you been up to this whole time?" he asked.

"I studied most of it, I was able to concentrate much better tonight" she said, with a sly grin. "I also made a few more hats; they're still disappearing faster than I can make them!"

Harry didn't comment on this, he wasn't about to ruin the moment by telling her Dobby had been taking them all. They both watched as the knitting needles she had enchanted finished the last of the hat they were working on. She waved her wand again and they dropped to the ground. She shifted herself under Harry's free arm, resting her head against his shoulder.

"What was Umbridge like?"

"She was in a right foul mood from the moment I turned up smiling" he said with a grin, "it was brilliant".

"If you're not careful she'll find an even more gruesome punishment for you" she said anxiously, lifting her head to look into his face, "you should at least try to not look happy".

"Yeah, you're right" he sighed, "it was fun to see her like that though".

"I'll bet it was" she said, with a slight grin herself, "don't give her any more reason to punish you though".

She reached over the arm of the chair and extracted his other hand from the bowl, now free of blood. She guided it slowly towards her lips and gently kissed it. Harry pulled her into a tighter embrace with his other arm and closed his eyes. He felt her arm edge slowly up towards his head; where she gently pulled it down to meet her own. As their lips met Harry wondered how just a few days ago he could possibly have felt so stressed. At this moment all his problems seemed miles away. They briefly broke the kiss, foreheads still pressed against each other, before their lips met once more.

Harry could easily have sat there with Hermione all night, but knew it wasn't possible. Far too soon they decided they would have to get some sleep, and with a promise he would not antagonize Umbridge during the following nights detention, they both head off to the dorms. His was buzzing so much Harry was sure he would not be able to fall asleep for some time, but managed it almost instantly. And for the second night in a row, his dreams were pleasant.

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	5. Chapter 5

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The next few days went without anything overly exciting. Harry's many problems were starting to get to him once more; Umbridge was taunting him relentlessly during Defense against the Dark Arts classes, the usual verbal abuse from the Slytherins continued as usual, and he was forced to do homework almost every second he wasn't spending in class. For the fist time on the Thursday he could see the Gryffindor Quidditch team practicing from the window in Umbridge's office, which dampened his spirits considerably. He was sure Umbridge had seen him looking, but made no effort to stop him. She no doubt knew the sight was worse than any punishment she could conjure up.

None the less, during the precious few late night moments he was able to share with Hermione, contention overcame him despite all this. For those brief moments, his problems seemed so trivial, so harmless.

He was highly surprised on the Friday, when Umbridge, who had no doubt decided his jovial attitude in the detention a few days prior, was a freak occurrence, seemed to decide he had suffered enough for the week and let him out slightly early. Slightly disappointed in the fact he had allowed Umbridge to sense weakness in him, he shuffled back to Gryffindor Tower quite unenthusiastically. He crawled through the portrait door to find Hermione sitting in her dressing gown, and as usual surrounded by books and parchment. To his surprise however, Fred and George were also in the common room, though they were tucked into the far corner, hunched over some parchment and seemed quite oblivious to everything else. Deciding to play it safe, Harry took a seat opposite Hermione, who had been throwing the twins suspicious looks. She beamed at him as he sat down.

"I didn't expect you back so soon!" she whispered excitedly, leaning forward.

"She let me out early, I think she actually took pity on me" he replied, with a distinct hint of disgust.

"Don't worry about it" she said calmly, "she only thinks she's winning" she grinned, pulling her DA coin out of her pocket.

She reached down next to her chair and retrieved the all too familiar bowl of yellow liquid, which Harry dipped his hand into gratefully, returning her smile. Hermione flashed another skeptical look in the direction of Fred and George.

"Worried about what they're up to?" Harry enquired, having noticed the look.

"A little" she admitted, still looking out the corners of her eyes, "They're not involving other students though, so it can be too harmful. I just wish they'd go to bed already" she added, flashing a swift grin at Harry.

For some time they sat there, talking only in whispers and being careful not to get too close together, in case one of the twins happened to break out of the trance they seemed to be in. After what seemed like forever, the twins got to their feet and headed for the dorms, carefully avoiding acknowledging Harry and Hermione, most likely, Harry thought as he watched them head up the stairs, out of fear of letting Hermione see what it was they were up to. In one swift movement, the moment the twins' backs had disappeared from view, Hermione had sent an avalanche of books falling to the ground, jumped to her feet, and seized both Harry's hands, a mischievous look on her face. Harry could only stare at her, somewhat taken aback by this sudden display of energy. It may have been early by Umbridge detention standards, but to anyone else it was quite late.

"Let's go" she said hurriedly, attempting to pull him to his feet.

"Where are we going?" he asked a few seconds later, after he had realized what was happening and allowed himself to be pulled upright.

"I thought we could take a bath in the prefects' bathroom" she replied in a slightly anxious voice, "Nobody is going to show up there at this hour".

Harry took several moments to register what she had said. He had never seen this side of Hermione before; such a suggestive idea AND essentially needless breaking of rules? All he could manage in reply was a few incoherent spluttering syllables.

"I'll take that as a yes" Hermione grinned, dragging him along by his arms.

She paused at the portrait hole.

"We better use this for the trip" she stated, Harry's invisibility cloak suddenly appearing in her hand. She quickly threw it over them.

"Where did you-?" he started, but she had already started moving again.

"Let's go" she said breathlessly, apparently not hearing him.

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	6. Chapter 6

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They met nobody on their way to the prefects' bathroom, which was fortunate, as Harry was so distracted, his mind racing so fast he felt sure he would have run into the first person that crossed their path.

Hermione slipped the cloak off and stashed it beside the enormous bath as soon as they entered and quickly began turning the countless taps on. The bath seemed to fill up even quicker than usual and before too long there was a delightful array of different bubbles covering the surface and aromas in the air. Hermione, with her backed turned to Harry, took a step forward and slowly began to slide her dressing gown off. As Harry watched it fall, revealing her bare back, she turned her head, giving him a look somewhere between excitement and nervousness. Slowly she lowered herself into the water below, turning to face him only when she was in up to the top of her shoulders.

It was only now that Harry realized he had not moved an inch since they had entered the room. Still in a state of partial shock, he took a few nervous steps forward, not knowing what to do. Hermione suddenly became very interested in the mermaid painting on the wall, staring determinedly at it, a slight grin on her face. Harry knew this was her way of telling him to get in. He ripped of his robes as quickly as possible and lowered himself in. Hermione turned back, flashed him a warm smile and slowly waded her way over to where he was leaning against the edge of the tub. By the time she stopped she was mere inches from him, and before he knew it her arms were around his neck and her lips met his own in a passionate kiss. Though not visible through the thick layer of bubbles, he could feel her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and couldn't help but wonder how he had never truly noticed his genius best friend for the woman she was becoming until now.

She withdrew her lips the tiniest amount, arms still around him. "I didn't know you brought your wand in" she said with a nervous laugh.

If Harry hadn't been so terrified himself he may have made fun of her for such a corny line, but found he wasn't quite capable of speaking at that moment.

Hermione withdrew one of her arms, and began very slowly tracing a path down his stomach. Mere centimeters from his waist she paused; the look on her face indicating she was torn as to whether she should continue or not. He felt her hand part with his skin, shortly after appearing back behind his head.

"Sorry" she whispered, "I'm just… not quite ready".

Harry released the breath he had only just realized he'd been holding for an awful long time.

"Thank god" he said, finally finding his voice. "I'm not either".

Hermione giggled with relief, pecking him on the lips once more. She turned around, resting her head on his shoulder, her back pressed against his stomach. Harry tenderly wrapped his arms around her. They both closed their eyes.

Harry didn't know how long they stayed there for. It was so romantic, so relaxing, all he knew was neither of them wanted it to end, neither wanted to go back to the stressful life that awaited them outside this room. Harry could hardly believe, amongst the dark times looming just around the corner, and having the entire magical community against him, that anything could make him feel this way. It dawned on him how truly precious these moments were. With these thoughts, he gripped Hermione tighter, giving her a soft peck on the cheek. He was determined to make the most of the all-too-short experience.

He was truly gutted when it came time to leave, though he knew full well staying any longer would be foolish; they had mountains of homework to do over the weekend and need at least _some_ sleep. He managed to force himself to look away as Hermione emerged from the water and replaced her dressing gown, knowing that she would be doing the same for him. Though neither of them was quite ready to cross that boundary, he had the feeling it would happen before too long. They donned the invisibility cloak once more and began to make their way back to Gryffindor tower, though they were so carefree at that point the noise they were making would have rendered the cloak quite ineffective should they have run into anybody. They shared a final embrace at the stairs leading to the dorms before heading to their respective beds.

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	7. Chapter 7

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The next day saw both Harry and Hermione rising considerably later than usual, though nobody seemed to notice, or at least find it suspicious. Harry trudged down the Great Hall for breakfast, knowing that all his Saturday held for him was a full day of homework, the amount of which he had was approaching critical level. He was caught between anger and disbelief at the amount of homework they had received in the last week, considering the Christmas break was barely two weeks away. He arrived to find Hermione looking particularly tired and disheveled, suggesting that she had only recently arrived herself, and Ron opposite her, who was dressed in his Quidditch robes and poking at a plate of bacon and eggs. Greeting them as enthusiastically as he could manage at the time, he took a seat next to Hermione. Knowing Ron's homework situation was almost as bad as his own; he decided he might ask if they'd do it together after lunch when quidditch practice was over. If nothing else, it gave him a good excuse to take the morning off.

"Want to work on Snape's essay after lunch?"

"Can't mate, Angelina has a whole day of training and team meetings planned" he replied gloomily. "Don't know why she's bothering, we're hopeless without you, Fred and George" he added.

"A good day's practice can't hurt" said Harry, slightly disappointed that his ticket out of work was not to be.

"Yes it can" said Ron, "those new beaters tend to cause more harm than good".

Harry didn't respond, Ron had no right to be gloomy when he would have given anything to be out training today. He covered the silence by stuffing food into his mouth, so that he wouldn't have been able to talk if he wanted to.

"Ah well, they can only get better" he said, after the other two had neglected to break the silence, pushing the bitter thoughts from his mind.

"I guess" said Ron, in a voice that suggested he really didn't guess. "I better get going" he said after a few moments, pushing his mostly full plate away. He got up and trudged off, dragging his feet.

Hermione, who upon the talk of Quidditch, had buried herself in the previous days Daily Prophet that she had not had a chance to properly read, put it down shortly after Ron's departure.

"Nothing interesting" she stated, folding it up and reaching for a nearby platter, "not that I expected anything".

"I'm not mad or unstable today, then?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"No more than any other day" she shrugged.

Harry rolled his eyes, the thought they would soon be eating their words allowed him to not care what they printed about him anymore. They continued with small talk as they finished eating, both apparently waiting for the other to bring up the events of the previous night.

"Guess I better get started on some of that homework" said Harry gloomily as they stood up, silently hoping she would suggest something more enjoyable.

"Yes, I really should too" she agreed, the words dampening Harry's spirit.

"How much can you have?" she asked, "you're always on top of homework".

"Well, I've been a little sidetracked the last week" she replied with a slight grin.

They walked along the corridors until Harry made to head for the library.

"Oh, let's do it in the common room" said Hermione, grabbing his arm and steering him away, "I don't much fancy being in the library today".

They climbed through the portrait hole, and Harry dragged himself up the stairs to retrieve his books, careful to move as slowly as possible without stopping dead. When, despite his deliberate delays, he arrived at his usual chair by fire, Hermione was already scribbling away madly. He gaped at her for a moment, how she could be so enthusiastic about homework on a Saturday, or at all for that matter, was completely beyond him. He dropped into his chair with a loud groan, causing Hermione to glance up at him, the look on her face somewhere between exasperation and amusement. He opened his potions book beside him and grabbed some parchment, his quill poised ready to write. He stared at it for several minutes without a single thought coming to him. The common room was almost empty, its usual inhabitants all off playing quidditch, or otherwise making the most of the class free day, enjoying the cold but otherwise decent weather. Only a small group of younger students were present, all huddled at the other side of the room. They were sporting small ailments that Harry suspected might have been the after effects of some Weasley products. He stared blankly at the window, scribbling nothing on his parchment, doing it simply in the hopes that the sound would make it seem as though he was doing something.

Something brushing arm eventually broke his trance-like stare. He looked to the side and saw Hermione had slid onto the arm of his chair. She had apparently finished her essay, rolled it up, and moved to her new position without him even noticing. She was looking down at his parchment over his shoulder, the smallest shade of a smile on her face.

"I don't think you'll pass with that" she said with a warm yet pitying look, "here, let me get you started".

She snatched up his parchment, and then shifted across to sit on his lap. He put his arm around her shoulders to support her as she scribbled away.

This continued well into lunch, Hermione abandoning her own homework to "help" with Harry's. As much as he enjoyed the closeness, Harry was very jumpy and constantly on the alert, praying nobody would come in, that nobody would interrupt them. Eventually they grew hungry, and decided to head down to the Great Hall. As they rose together and squeezed through the portrait hole, Harry couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He knew the common room would be considerably fuller upon their return. They would not get another chance to be close until well into the night.

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	8. Chapter 8

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The initial shock of the new relationship now over, Harry spent much of the next few days thinking through every aspect of it, both fond reminiscing and niggling questions. It seemed only too recently he had liked Cho, something that had been stuck in the back of his mind the first few days, but he now had no doubt he was better off with Hermione. He thought back over his years at Hogwarts, truly realizing for the first time it was Hermione who had always been there for him.

He would never have saved the Philosophers Stone in their first year without her. It had been her that had solved the mystery of Slytherins monster in their second year; sure she had been petrified in the hospital wing when the real action happened, but the knowledge gave Harry a fighting chance. Third year, she made it possible to save both Sirius and Buckbeak. The risk they had taken that night was massive, yet she still stuck by him. Even the time she had Harry's new Firebolt confiscated that year, that he had been so furious with her for, her intentions had been nothing but good. And last year, when everybody, even Ron, had thought he had put his own name into the Goblet of Fire, it was Hermione that supported him, never once questioning whether he was guilty or not. Even the DA had been her idea, and it was about the only school related activity that had gone right during the year so far. Not to mention the countless times she had helped him with homework and lent him her notes for exams, his results would have been truly dismal without her. She had always been there, and the realization came over him that he had never truly let her know how much all that meant to him, though he had a feeling she knew. She was so intelligent, she knew him, if possible, better then he knew himself.

The biggest issue eating at him was Ron. Despite the almost constant fighting between the pair, there had been definite signs from Ron that he fancied Hermione too, and it killed Harry to betray him like this. But he couldn't help how he felt, neither could Hermione, and having he was growing somewhat weary of having to be so secretive about the relationship. Ron would have to find out sooner or later, and Harry knew his reaction would be no better the longer he was kept in the dark. He fully expected Ron to overreact badly to the news, as he had a tendency to do, when they eventually broke it; he only hoped he didn't take too long in accepting it, as he knew he eventually would. Or would he? He had been bad enough when Viktor Krum had shown interest in Hermione, it would be the same all over again, only worse, replacing Krum with Harry would surely only intensify his anger, the betrayal factor considerably worse. Ron wore his emotions on his sleeve, and when he got going, logic and reason seemed to abandon the situation. If Ron valued the friendship as much as Harry did he would eventually come to accept it, it was surely only a question of time. Harry had already experienced fighting with Ron the year before, and was certainly not keen to experience it again. This was the only thing stopping him from telling Ron right now.

These thoughts kept him occupied throughout the day, eating away at him. On the bright side, he was too pre-occupied to even listen to the nonsense Umbridge fed them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, making keeping his cool much easier, and he found he was much less bored during History of Magic. He glanced around at the class as Professor Binns droned on. As usual, everyone had their attention focused elsewhere; some were staring blankly into space, others had their head in their arms on the desk, not even bothering to look as though they were paying attention. Hermione of course, was the exception, rapidly taking notes as usual. He grinned slightly and returned to his thoughts.

He eventually decided he would talk to her about it that night, after everybody else went to bed. After a few solid days work, with a generous amount of "help", his homework was at a much more manageable level. He decided he could afford to take part of the night off to sort matters out, and besides, he said was buzzing so much with these thoughts he doubted he would achieve much anyway. The relief on finally deciding on a course of action seemed to free his mind a little, the thought of being able to embrace Hermione without having to worry about who saw, was a huge morale boost. Of course, making it public knowledge would ensure an increase in unwanted attention, but he knew he would have to take this in stride. It would become old news in just a few days, and everyone would be bored with it. Except, perhaps, the Slytherins, though he was so used to the attention from them it would make little difference giving them one more piece of ammunition. The end result was worth a few days taunting, their relationship would finally be able to blossom unrestricted. He smiled at this thought; putting his head onto the desk and closing his eyes, he was able to return to his usual stupor for the rest of the class.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Hermione sat in her chair in the common room, so wrapped up in her Arithmancy homework that Crookshanks' many attempts to garner her attention went unnoticed, as did Fred and George dealing with their latest "customers". Harry had gone down to watch Ron and the rest of the team in a short training session. She knew Harry missed Quidditch dearly, but wasn't sure sitting on the sidelines while the team blundered about before him would make him feel a whole lot better. As she was reaching the end of her Arithmancy essay she glanced around at her other books, piled all around her. She could probably get done with another subject before the boys got back, but she would no doubt have to help them when they attempted to do it, and what was the point of going through it twice? Deciding to take a short break, she finally abided to Crookshanks' wishes, lifting him up on to her lap.

Now that she had no homework to occupy her thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder why exactly Harry had gone down to Quidditch practice rather than stay in the common room with her. Sure there were other people around, but they wouldn't get too close, and the odds of anybody noticing were slim, everybody had better things to do than watch the two of them. The only person likely to catch them out was Ron, and he would have been down at the Quidditch pitch. She felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of Ron, she knew they would eventually have to inform him, and she felt she could quite accurately predict how he would react. Not particularly enjoying this new train of thought, she decided to abandon her break; she would worry about that little issue later. She reached over and picked up her History of Magic homework and began to write. There was no need to worry about the other two with this particular subject; they never did anything until revision for exams anyway.

* * *

Harry sat quietly in the stands beside the Quidditch pitch, lost in his own thoughts. He had not come down to watch the team train at all, though he had ended up watching for a few minutes. Much to his dismay, Ron was not at all wrong about the new team. They were quite hopeless; he could only bear to pay attention for a few minutes. The real reason he had come down was to have some time to himself, to think about how he would go about discussing with Hermione the unpleasant task that loomed before them of breaking the news to Ron. She was in the common room, so he obviously couldn't stay there, prolonged silence on his part would no doubt cause her some concern. The Quidditch pitch was the only place she would expect him to actually want to go, and there was little chance of her wanting to tag along.

Of course, now that he had been there a while, he realized there was no strategy involved in raising the issue with Hermione that would make it any easier. Deep down he knew he had only gone down to the pitch in order to postpone the conversation. He only wished the situation could be avoided, but knew it couldn't; the sooner they got down to it, the better. He would talk to her about it tonight, he decided, for at least the fourth time that day, and this time, he meant it. And besides, he knew she would have been stressing over it just as much as he was, if not more, and as unpleasant as it was, she would likely be as glad as him to get it sorted out. Glancing out at the pitch, he saw the team slowly coming down to the ground, finally having given up on the practice. Harry rose from seat, and made to intercept them on their way into the changing rooms. He managed to catch Ron's eye on his way up to the castle.

"See you back in the common room" he called, turning briefly to face him.

Ron responded with an unenthusiastic wave paired with a grunt, then returned to his slouch and disappeared into the rooms. This gave Harry the distinct feeling that the practice had not improved a great deal in the time after he stopped watching. He slowly began to make his way up to the common room, still set on the idea of speaking with Hermione, after everybody, or at least most people, Ron included, had gone to bed of course. In a matter of minutes he had reached the common room. Climbing in through the portrait hole, he strolled over and took his seat opposite Hermione, his books already there waiting for him. She looked up as he sat down, flashing him a small smile.

"How was the Quidditch?" she asked, a slight smirk on her face.

"Terrible" he said with a small sigh. "What are we working on?" he asked, reaching for the nearest book.

"History of Magic" she replied without looking up, the look of amusement on her face still visible.

"Excellent" he said, leaning back in the chair, "I'll wait till you're done".

He reached down and snatched Crookshanks from around his ankles, lifted him onto the chair and leaned back to relax. Within a few minutes however, Hermione had finished her homework and Ron had trudged in. Reluctantly, Harry pulled out his potions homework and the three of them set to work, pausing constantly to ask Hermione what she seemed to think were simple questions, and to express their dislike of Snape, the latter occurring more and more frequently as time progressed.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

After what felt like many hours, a few people had finally granted Harry's unspoken wishes, and gone up to bed. Shortly after, Ron had risen to his feet.

"I'll get this done tomorrow" he said, sounding slightly exasperated, "That practice really took it out of me".

Harry and Hermione bade him goodnight, and continued on with their Charms homework, still wary of Fred and George, who they knew were lurking around the common room somewhere, and without any more first years to torture, were likely to catch them out. To Harry's relief however, they soon followed suit, leaving only a small group of students huddled across the other side of the room, none of which they knew particularly well. He decided it was now safe enough to relax a touch.

"So I've been thinking…" he began, frantically trying to work the words he needed, "about Ron…-"

"I don't think we should tell him just yet" she said, cutting him off. To his relief, the quickness of her reply confirmed his suspicion that she had been thinking it over as much as him.

"Maybe not…" he started, "but it's getting a little frustrating to have to be so secretive".

"I know" she agreed, "but I think we should at least wait a week. There's a quidditch game on Saturday, and his confidence is low enough as it is. He doesn't need anything more to worry about just yet".

Harry was visibly surprised. He had not even thought of this, and was sincerely glad Hermione was so on top of things, much more than he was.

"I take it you agree" she said, with a slight grin at the look on his face.

"Yeah I guess so" he said, reaching out for her hand. "It will be a tough week though".

"Tell me about it" she agreed, grasping his hand in return, "but there's only a few days till the Christmas break after the game, we can do it then".

Harry could see no immediate problem with this, and a wave of relief rushed over him. He walked over and settled himself in Hermione's chair, suddenly feeling much more energetic than he did just minutes ago.

"So what was it like watching quidditch practice anyway?" she inquired, once again without even looking up.

"Painful" he replied, "it feels like forever since I last got to fly".

"You know…We should go out for a fly tonight!" she said suddenly, looking up at him, her face alight with the mischievous grin he had seen so much of recently.

Harry gaped at her. "You hate flying", he said, in a slightly awed voice.

"I know" she agreed, "but I'm sure it will be fun with you". "...You'll take it easy, right?" she added suddenly, looking slightly apprehensive.

"Of course" he laughed, "but there's just a slight problem; we don't have a broom, Umbridge has mine locked up".

"I know" she said rising to her knees and looking excited, "but I think I know where we can get one".

"Where?" Harry enquired, clearly surprised.

"You'll see" she winked, "just go and fetch your cloak and map in a few minutes".

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing, but didn't question it. Waiting till he was sure the rest of his dorm would be asleep, he snuck up as quietly as possible and retrieved his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map, then ran back down to Hermione.

"You weren't thinking of taking Ron's broom were you?" he enquired, "or trying to get mine back?" he added, quietly hoping this was the case, though he was almost sure it was impossible.

"No, no" she said while neatly stacking her books, "though I think I may know a way to get yours back, but we would need more time to think it over".

"Really?" he asked in surprise, "…but then we are we going tonight?" he added.

"You'll see" she repeated, her grin growing wider, "just get under the cloak and let me lead the way".

Before Harry knew quite was happening, she had thrown the cloak over them both and set off towards the portrait hole. Harry frantically activated the map as he half ran to keep up with her. This proved somewhat pointless however, as Hermione didn't show the slightest interest in what the map said.

After a thoroughly confusing few minutes of scurrying, Hermione had come to a halt. Harry looked past her to see where they were.

"The Room of Requirement?" he asked, in a great state of confusion, "what are we doing here?"

"Well", she started, eyeing him as though she could hardly believe he still didn't understand. "We _require_ a broom don't we? Where else would we go?"

Harry, finally catching on, allowed a broad grin to spread across his face. It was so simple yet brilliant. They proceeded to walk past the wall three times, thinking hard, Harry praying their need was considered real enough to be granted by the room. _We need a broom. We need a broom. We need a broom. _Suddenly, the door materialized. Opening it quietly as possible, they discovered a plain, dusty old broom cupboard. Upon further inspection however, they unveiled a shiny new Firebolt, much like Harry's, though in what appeared to be unused condition, hidden right in the back corner. Grinning broadly, Harry snatched it up, made sure it was fully concealed beneath the cloak as a rush of excitement sped through him, and together they took off across the grounds towards the quidditch pitch, Harry feeling much more enthusiastic about it than he had done just hours earlier.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

They strolled out onto the pitch, the moonlight surprisingly bright, at least enough to ensure they could fly safely. Harry mounted the broom and kicked off, slowly rising into the air. Gliding slowly over to Hermione, he dropped gradually lower before coming to a halt next to her. He held out his hand to pull her onto the broom behind him. Once she was firmly in place, he took off into the moonlit sky.

Despite the fact he was flying considerably slower and more smoothly than he normally would have done, the grip Hermione maintained on his waist was rather tighter than necessary. He couldn't see her face, but judging by the sounds escaping her lips, he could only guess that she was experiencing something between exhilaration and fright. Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly at this; he had never experienced such nerves on a broomstick. And seeing Hermione, who was good at more or less everything, have such difficulty with something as simple as flying was a strange thing indeed. Before too long however, her nervousness seemed to fade. Her grip became more relaxed, and she began to sound as though she was enjoying the ride more. This of course excepted moments when Harry took particularly tight turns, or pulled other complex maneuvers, which he couldn't help but do every now and then for his own amusement.

After a good half an hour, Harry found himself wondering how he could inject some romance into the situation, as Hermione had obviously expected it to be so. Otherwise she would surely not have subjected herself to flying when they could have stayed in the common room, gazing into the warmth of the fire; even though she seemed to be enjoying flying well enough now. Then again, she knew how much he loved flying. Perhaps just seeing how happy the chance to fly again had made him, and being there to experience it with him was enough for her? She certainly was selfless enough for this to be a possibility. But if she was willing to face her fear of flying to make him happy, he should make an effort to make the experience special for her too. It was the least he could do.

Slowly, he began to glide in the direction of the astronomy tower. The moonlit features of the still and silent grounds and castle were much more interesting to fly over than the Quidditch pitch; Harry couldn't help but notice how elegant the scenery was at night. He began to escalate, halting into a steady hover when they reached the very top of the astronomy tower. From this point almost all of the Hogwarts grounds and surroundings were visible, mystery and elegance enhanced by the dull glow of the moonlight. They lost track of time as they gazed out at the scenery, stretching right out into the horizon. There was The Forbidden Forest, even darker than usual and seemingly stretching on forever; The Black Lake, eerie and majestic off to the side. In the opposite direction lay the small village of Hogsmeade, barely visible in the distance.

Harry felt movement behind him, as Hermione shifted slightly closer, rising to a more upright position as her head and arms appeared over his shoulder. She commented on how beautiful it was in barely a whisper. The minutes passed as they sat hovering, admiring the scene, barely speaking, the light breeze softly ruffling their hair and robes. Harry was amazed. They had been atop that tower many times before, but he had never considered how well it could function as a romantic lookout. All those times he had wasted his time looking at the sky rather than the ground. The pair of them could have stayed there all night, the prospect of seeing what would surely have been a truly spectacular sunrise from their position quite inviting, but they eventually had to concede to the night and head back to the ground. Harry made sure however, to take a long winding path down to the pitch, circling all the way around the castle, venturing at points out onto the grounds, prolonging the experience as long as possible.

All too soon they had landed and were under the cloak, heading back up to the castle; Harry with one arm around Hermione, the other clutching the broomstick. They took the stroll very slowly, despite the lateness of the hour, and the prospect of facing the next day with limited sleep. As the daytime life at Hogwarts was growing less enjoyable with every new decree, they were keen to enjoy the night as much as possible; it seemed to be about the only thing on their side. Making the stop to return the broom to the Room of Requirement, they soon found themselves climbing through the portrait hole to Gryffindor tower, much to the dismay of the Fat Lady. Not quite ready to sleep, they took a seat by the fire.

"That was wonderful" Hermione began, "and flying isn't as bad as I always thought".

"It was" Harry agreed. "We'll try some of my Quidditch moves next time" he added, teasingly.

"No, that was fast and tricky enough" she replied, in what was a half-serious, half- playful tone.

Harry laughed, squeezing her a little tighter.

"I never realized how nice the grounds looked at night. It was really beautiful" Hermione said dreamily.

"Neither did I" he agreed, "We could always go back one night. We don't even need a broom; we could just sit up on top of the tower".

"That would be nice".

It was only now that Harry realized just how tired he was. Hermione seemed to be feeling the same, and when she began to doze off in his arms, despite the temptation to simply sleep there, he suggested they head to bed. Bidding each other a tender goodnight, they headed off to their respective dorms, the nights events fresh in their minds, renewing their spirits enough to face whatever horrors potentially awaited them the next day.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

Hermione slowly ascended the stairs and entered the fifth year girl's dorms, flopping unenthusiastically down onto her four poster. She would much rather have stayed in the chair with Harry. She must have been about the only student at Hogwarts that didn't particularly like her dorm, she thought. She looked around at her two sleeping room mates. Lavender and Parvati were the best of friends, and she often felt almost like an intruder in here; she had nothing in common with the pair of them. She gave a small sigh and pushed the thought from her mind. There was no changing it, and no point dwelling on it; plus, they were almost always asleep by the time she got in these days anyway.

She simply lay on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling, all of a sudden not feeling at all tired. She shifted her thoughts to the recent events of the evening. It had gone well overall. She was still not about to pick up a broom and try out for the Quidditch team, but she had enjoyed flying well enough. The trip up to the Astronomy Tower had been a nice surprise, the thought that Harry had sacrificed part of his flying time to do that for her made her smile. It had been so romantic. She had hoped while planning it that some romance would be sparked from somewhere, but that was well beyond anything she expected. Flying around, Harry had seemed as happy as she had seen him a long time, and that alone had made it worthwhile. She had noticed him becoming steadily more depressed about his Quidditch ban, and she only hoped it would brighten his spirits a bit, and it certainly seemed to. She had seriously considered the option of trying to steal Harry's Firebolt back; it would mean so much to him. But it would no doubt be difficult; and even if they did succeed, Umbridge would notice very quickly. And Hermione was sure that she still had plenty of ways to make their lives even more miserable up her sleeve.

She began to think ahead to the near future. There was just over a week until the Christmas break, and she was set to go skiing with her parents. She hadn't told Harry this yet; she knew he was likely looking forward to spending the time with her, without classes and homework to distract them. He would no doubt be quite disappointed. In truth, she was disappointed about this herself. She doubted she would find skiing much less difficult or scary than flying; Christmas with her friends sounded both safer and more enjoyable. But of course, she saw little of her family as it was, and really ought to go. Harry would have the Weasleys, he would be fine. All this meant is they only had a few days left together for a while, and she would have to make them count. She didn't find the idea of breaking it to him too daunting, he would understand. She had other news to break to someone else that had her far more worried. Hopefully Harry wouldn't let the secret he was keeping from Ron make things awkward between them, or worse, let it slip. It was one thing to tell him at Hogwarts, if he was to find out while they were stuck together at the Burrow, without her there to keep the peace, things could get really ugly. She had faith though. Harry seemed to have become quite adept at hiding things from Ron over the years, though he could never quite fool her. Surely everything would be fine.

Having dealt with the thoughts buzzing in her head, it suddenly dawned on her just late it was, and how little sleep she was now facing. By the end of classes the next day she would likely be exhausted; it would be one night she wouldn't be able to make count. Allowing thoughts of their previous night time escapades to fill her head, she rolled over and slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

Saturday morning, the trio sat at the Gryffindor table, Ron looking particularly disgruntled as the Quidditch match, one they would very likely lose, drew ever closer. The training session the previous day had done no good for his confidence, and he was obviously dreading once again hearing 'Weasley is our King', making matters even worse. They were due to play Hufflepuff, who were by no means the best team, but likely still much better than Gryffindor. The previous day had been particularly uneventful, at least for Harry and Hermione. Despite being extremely tired through out the day, Hermione had of course still managed to master everything covered in all their classes. Harry was amazed at her willpower, his concentration was often questionable at the best of times, that day it had been downright woeful. They had turned in for the night much earlier than most recent nights, ensuring they were properly energized for the weekend. Thankfully Ron was far to busy fretting over the game to question why.

Harry had long since given up trying to make Ron eat anything; he barely even seemed to be aware of where he was. Time seemed to be dragging on at a snail's pace, yet all too soon they had separated, Ron heading to the changing rooms, Harry and Hermione heading to the stands. It was a particularly cold day, with strong, icy winds. This combined with the likelihood of a Gryffindor defeat made the entire event quite an unappealing prospect. None the less, the pair battled their way down to the pitch, and took seats in the stands amongst the other Gryffindors, most of who were shivering violently and looking quite as unenthusiastic as Harry felt. Despite this, the cheer that erupted when the team strolled out onto the pitch was surprisingly loud.

Harry had not expected an overly pleasant result, but even he had expected the team to at least put up a fight. Ron missed several easy saves, and all too soon the familiar 'Weasley is our King' was ringing throughout the stands. The chasers had looked good, but received an excessive battering from the bludgers courtesy of the inexperienced beaters. In fact, the only positive was that Ginny managed to catch the snitch, though Gryffindor still lost comfortably. Along with the rest of the dispirited Gryffindors, Harry and Hermione trudged their way back to the castle, dreading the remainder of the day, in which Ron would no doubt be exceptionally depressed.

* * *

To Harry's surprise, however, Ron spent very little time in the common room that afternoon, which caused Harry a conflict of emotions. Although he tried hard to convince himself otherwise, deep down he was quite glad to be rid of Ron for a while, especially when he was in the mood he was no doubt in. It often seemed that Ron was somewhat of a third wheel in their little group these days, and Harry often felt obligated to try and cover this up. He was both relieved at avoiding that scenario, and felt terrible about feeling that way. Keen to focus his mind on something else, he brought up the subject of the Christmas break with Hermione.

"So what's happening during the Christmas break?" he enquired, unable to think up a way to better word the sentence.

"Well…" she started uneasily, "I'm going skiing with my parents" she finished, without looking up to meet his eye.

Harry didn't reply, but merely sat there looking stunned as a wave of disappointment rushed over him. He had not even considered that they might not be spending the holidays together.

"Of course I'd rather spend it with you" she added, "but they seem excited and I don't get to see them all that often".

"Yeah" Harry replied absently. Despite the urge to tell her otherwise, he knew she was right; it would be selfish to say anything that might make her feel guilty.

"Maybe I can spend it with Sirius" he said, trying hard to keep his voice as gloom free as possible.

"I think you're going to The Burrow with Ron" she replied, already with her head back down over her books. "It's already been organized".

"Oh" he said, quite taken aback, "but that means Sirius will have nobody but Kreacher…"

"Yes, I thought of that too" she shrugged, "but everyone seems to think you'll be better of at The Burrow".

Harry considered this for a while. He didn't see how The Burrow could be safer than Grimmauld place, with all its safety enchantments, but decided he should probably trust their judgment for once. Besides, he would be able to send letters to Sirius from The Burrow, there was nobody intercepting the mail there. He could even use the fire to talk so him; that was also not being monitored. Plus, he had always enjoyed holidays spent with the Weasleys, it would be fine.

He suddenly noticed Hermione had been staring at him for some time, while he had been lost in his own thoughts. She had a small smile on her face, which faltered a little as he came to. She reached out a hand, grasping his.

"It's only a short break" she started, "when it's over we can come clean. Things will be much easier".

"Yeah" he agreed, arranging his face into a smile and clearing his mind as she squeezed his hand.

"So" he started, a grin spreading across his face as he imagined Hermione trying to ski, "skiing eh?"

She broke out into a grin also, the rest of the afternoon passing in a haze of laughter, caused by numerous jokes at the prospect of Hermione skiing, particularly without magic.

* * *

The final days of term passed quite quickly, with nothing out of the ordinary occurring. Most people had given up on working, and were simply looking forward to the holidays. Despite the disappointment of Hermione going elsewhere, and small twinge of guilt at Sirius' expense that he could not quite suppress, Harry felt much the same, the feeling was quite infectious. He lay to sleep on the second last night, and for the first time ever, he was thoroughly looking forward to being away from Hogwarts for a while. He thought of spending the days carefree, no Umbridge, no homework, practicing Quidditch again, although he wouldn't have his Firebolt. He was moving down a familiar hallway, sliding, seeking something… Ahead of him he saw a man… He reared up, ready to attack…

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

Harry sat alone in Buckbeak's room at the very top of Grimmauld Place, feeding the Hippogriff dead rats. If someone had told him two days ago that his array of problems be rendered miniscule by a new one, he would not have believed them. Yet here he was, forcing himself to keep well away from Sirius and the Weasleys for fear of hurting them. He was dangerous. Mr. Weasley was already hospitalized because of him; he wasn't going to let it happen again. Worst of all, he would not be able to see Hermione again. She would not find out until she returned to Hogwarts, and who knows what will have become of him by then? He certainly couldn't return to Hogwarts, there were far too many innocent people there, Hermione included, and there was no way he was going to risk hurting her. Just a few days ago, the thought of spending the break without her had been disappointing enough, but she had assured him it would all be fine. They would come clean, and be able to fully embrace the relationship. All of a sudden, the idea of their separation being indefinite sunk in, and truly made his heart sink. However, the knowledge that it was for her protection provided some consolation, if only slight.

He tried desperately to ignore how hungry he felt as he watched Buckbeak chomp away on dead rats, but this was becoming increasingly more difficult. But he had to persevere, he wasn't going to go downstairs; they were surely all talking about him, and that was not something he wanted to walk in on. The look plastered on the Weasley kids' faces when they heard what Mad-Eye said at St. Mungo's was constantly replaying through his mind. Moody's words suddenly flashed through his mind. Dumbledore had not only known something like this could happen; he had _expected_ it. Why then, had he not even attempted to prevent it? Sure, he had made Harry take those fruitless Occlumency lessons, but this was much more than his usual dreams. Dumbledore should have quarantined him. He would gladly co-operate if it meant the safety of his friends. Why now, had Dumbledore ordered him to stay at Grimmauld place? Any moment now, one, or more of its inhabitants could meet the same fate as Mr. Weasley. Did he truly think it safe? Did he know something he wasn't letting on? If so, why didn't he tell Harry instead of letting him stew like this? Harry was desperate for some information. Even if it confirmed what he had been thinking, what he had been fearing, it was better than this. At least he would know.

More than once he had heard someone calling his name up the stairs, but had ignored them. Clearly they weren't all that keen on actually finding him, it would not be that hard. He was hoping Sirius would come to find him however; he desperately wanted to talk to him about everything. From what he had seen of Sirius so far he did not seem overly concerned. This didn't surprise Harry though. He hadn't been at St. Mungo's. He hadn't heard what the rest of them had, though it had probably been mentioned in meetings of the Order. But he was still overjoyed at the prospect of having company for the Holidays; there was likely nothing that could cause him worry right now. Still, he was the only person Harry felt he could confide in.

Out of rats and completely sapped of energy, Harry leaned back against the wall, shutting his eyes and trying to push the intense hunger from his mind. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Harry sprung back up to a sitting position. Perhaps it was Sirius finally looking for him? He hesitated. Another knock. Then came a voice that he had not at all expected; a voice that made his heart leap. It was Hermione. He sprang to his feet and ran to open the door, hardly daring to believe she could actually be there. He wrenched open the door, and there she stood. He had never been so glad to see her. All the Weasleys had seemed almost frightened to look or speak to him, but Hermione showed no sign if this, and somehow, he just knew she would be able to make sense of this whole mess. After quickly explaining how she ended up there instead of going off skiing, she dragged him off to his room, where Ron and Ginny were waiting. Despite the glimmer of hope residing in him, he couldn't help but feel bitter at the way they were both just staring at him.

Hermione wasted no time in starting the discussions, throughout which she showed almost no sign of concern; she was even making jokes. Harry was completely baffled at this. Perhaps she didn't understand what had happened at all; perhaps she had misinterpreted what she had been told by the others. He felt the small glimmer of hope fade away. Harry's bitterness only increased as they pressed on, and Ron and Ginny denied both avoiding him and speaking about him. It was only when Ginny explained what it was like to be possessed by Voldemort that something clicked. He had experienced nothing like her explanation. He wasn't being possessed at all. The possibility of his being transported there by Voldemort was proven false almost immediately by Hermione and confirmed by Ron. A rush of relief came over him, he could hardly believe it. It really had been nothing more than one of his usual visions. Now that he thought about it, he really should have been able to come to that conclusion himself; he suddenly felt quite silly. Seeing the look on Hermione's face as he caught her eye assured him that she knew how he felt too. He stared at her, both amazed and grateful at how well she had handled the situation. She flashed him a mischievous look that told him she was not going to let him forget the way he had acted today anytime soon, but he didn't care; his relief was far too great. He took a moment to look around, fully appreciating his position for the first time. He was going to be spending Christmas with Sirius, the Weasleys were all here, and best of all, Hermione was here. All of a sudden, the holidays seemed a whole lot brighter.

* * *


End file.
